Those Damn Metaphorical Flowers
by WeBuiltThePyramids
Summary: "You're like a couple of lovesick teenagers." Cabe rested his mug on his knee. "You planning on doing anything about that, or are you two just going to keep making eyes and sitting in each other's personal space?"


**I was going to wait a few more days to post this, but knowing the way my motivation comes and goes if I sit on it I'll end up hating it and not having the energy to edit it and then it just wouldn't go up at all, so here it is today. I'll have something else out for you guys on Tuesday before I really crack down on my next multi-chapter fic, but I don't know exactly what it's going to be yet. Anyway, this oneshot has been outlined and partly drafted for...eek, it's been probably six months (told you my motivation is a hot mess) and for a number of reasons I felt like I need to get it out now.**

* * *

"You're staring."

Walter hadn't even noticed Cabe walking up next to the couch, coffee mug in his hand. He looked up at him. "Hmmm?"

"Don't _hmmm_ me," Cabe said, shaking his head. He gestured with his mug across the garage, where Paige was arranging flowers in a vase. "You can't take your eyes off of her."

Walter's brain immediately thought of ideas to comment on, how she was trying to make the garage look brighter, how he wasn't sure that flowers would increase their efficiency, how he was looking at her because he was suspicious of her theory. But he knew there was no way he could make that claim with any sort of believability. He wasn't even sure that he wanted to. He sighed. "She looks beautiful today."

Cabe sank down onto the couch next to him. "Just today?"

Walter sighed, looking down at where his hands were clasped together in the gap between his knees. Cabe lifted his mug to his lips.

Walter glanced back Paige's way. She tucked another flower into the arrangement, then slowly spun the vase around to study it. Her eyes flicked up from the flowers, meeting Walter's gaze. She smiled warmly. He smiled back.

"You're like a couple of lovesick teenagers," Cabe grumbled, taking another sip of his coffee. Walter looked at him, eyes wide. "Relax," Cabe said. "You can barely hear what I'm saying. She didn't hear me." He rested his mug on his knee. "You planning on doing anything about that, or are you two just going to keep making eyes and sitting in each other's personal space?"

Walter dropped his eyes, focusing on the coffee mug. "I uh..." He didn't want to be interrogated about this now. The last time he'd been honest with Cabe, truly honest, about his feelings for Paige, he'd been told he was selfish for loving her. He knew that was months ago. He knew he'd changed a lot since then – and so had she. He knew they were in a much better place than they had been when Cabe said that. But he was still a little head shy, worried he might be discouraged again.

Because he really felt they were ready. And if he was so out of touch with her and himself that he was still somehow half baked, he didn't know if his heart could take that harsh reality.

He shifted his weight. "I don't know how to bring it up. And I don't...I mean, I know..." He looked at Cabe. "I know that I've made lots of improvements, to myself. But she's just..." he looked back in Paige's direction. She was arranging another vase. "She's so amazing. I don't know how to know that we're ready."

"You know, I'm not a big fan of using metaphors," Cabe said. "I like just straight up conversation. And I know you're like that too, kid, but Allie said something to me the other day that I really liked."

Walter lifted his eyes, looking over at the older man. "What's that?"

"She has this little garden. And she told me that her nephew, when he first was starting to date, he asked his father – Allie's brother in law – for advice. Now this is going to really fit," Cabe said, looking suddenly proud of himself, "because of what Paige is working on right now. Allie's nephew, he was told that if you like a flower, you pluck it." Cabe made a motion with his hand as if he was doing so. "But if you really love the flower, you water it, weed it, you fertilize it. You take care of the people you love. And if you're really lucky, they'll love you too, and take care of you right back." Cabe smiled. "And Walt, you and Paige take care of each other already. If you're prepared to take care of her romantically, then I would say that that's an indicator that you are ready." He nodded toward the vases that Paige had dispersed around the garage. "These arrangements are nice. But they won't last. You and Paige are something that can."

* * *

She was standing at the fridge, examining the contents inside. Walter stopped, watching her do almost nothing, building up his nerve.

 _Just do it._

He'd already talked to her, they'd had this conversation dozens of times today in his head, waiting for Sylvester and Cabe to come back with the lunches so everyone else would be occupied. He had what he wanted to say to her down pat. He had thought through every scenario that he could think of. And he _wanted_ to do this. He wanted them to move forward.

But that was why he was so damn nervous and he may have gone back to his desk to think through his speech a few more times had she not turned around right then. She smiled. She was smiling a lot around him lately. Walter felt the same fluttering in his stomach that had become the norm around her. "Hey, what's going on?" She asked.

"I uh, I need to talk to you about something."

"Is this about the Ristevski – Spierer paperwork?"

"No. Can we talk in the loft?"

She nodded after the briefest of pauses. "Yeah, okay."

He smiled. "Good. Great." She turned her head to the side, cocking an eyebrow. He cleared his throat. "Ah," he gestured toward the stairs. "After you."

He followed her up the stairs, and she walked a few paces into the loft before turning to face him. "Is anything wrong?"

"No." He shook his head. "I just need to talk to you."

"Are you okay? You're acting strange."

Walter cleared his throat again, reaching up to scratch the back of his head. "Uh, okay, so..." Everything he'd rehearsed in his head, hours of internal practice, had completely evaporated. He couldn't even remember how to start. "So I uh, uh..." Paige raised her eyebrows expectantly, looking confused. Walter bit his lip. "Uh..." He cleared his throat. "I don't want to pluck you."

"Excuse me?"

All the blood in Walter's body felt like it was rushing to his face. "I – I – I – I mean, I m – mean..." He stammered, lifting a hand to wipe his mouth. "I mean, okay, so..." He shoved his hands in his pockets. "Paige, something that I've found is, when you really care about somebody, you don't want to...do anything that would...make them...worse for having known you. You want to take care of them, and make them happier."

Paige's expression was softening, going from confused to what he thought was touched, or maybe hopeful? Maybe he was just seeing what he was feeling reflected in her eyes because he wanted to see it. "And so, uh," he said, taking a step closer to her, "it's like those flowers. You bought them because you said you liked them. You knew that they are going to die because they were picked. But you bought them anyway, your business encouraging them to pluck the flowers in the future. But when it comes to us – to you – I don't want any of that. Are you laughing?" He asked, furrowing his brow in confusion when Paige smiled and chuckled.

She brushed a lock of hair back behind her ear. "You really suck at this, Walter."

Her voice was light, and the look in her eyes was warm. She was teasing him. Walter smiled in spite of his nerves, feeling a little more confident. He was still terrible at reading body language, but she didn't seem to want to be moving away from him. "I had a whole thing prepared," he said. "But I blanked." She smiled. He continued, reaching out for her hands, closing his eyes briefly, in relief, when she took them. "Paige, I so rarely connect with people and with us, it's just...it's felt different. Lately." He tipped his head to one side. "It really feels like this thing that was between us last year, it's..." he realized he was squeezing her hands. He also realized she wasn't trying to loosen his grip. "It's all here. And it's strong, and I..." He pressed his lips together and shook his head. He didn't know how to say this part. He opted for blunt honesty. "I love you. And I want to be with you. And..." He licked his lips. "I want to make you happy."

A moment of silence passed between them, their eyes locked, neither one speaking or even moving. "But uh," Walter blurted, "only if that's what you want, I...I..."

"Walter." She lifted a hand, pressing her index finger against his lips.

"I'm sorry," he said when she removed it. "I just, I...you're right. You're absolutely right. I don't know how to do this. I've just never...I've never felt..."

"I know." She nodded. Somehow she'd gotten closer to him. She lifted her hand again, placing it on the side of his neck. "Walter, do you have any idea how much I missed you last fall?" She shook her head. "Even when I was mad at you. Even when I was furious with you and _didn't want_ to see you. I still missed you. And since we've been friends again..." She shook her head. "It's all felt so...right. Walter..." She trailed off, her eyes dropping a moment before returning to his own. "Walter, I uh..." Her eyes dropped again, and he thought he saw pink in her cheeks. She gave a little laugh, seeming embarrassed, and let go of his hands, folding her arms and rubbing her upper arms with her opposing hand, as if she was cold. "I'm sorry, it's just...you don't have someone telling you they love you every day. Especially when, um..." She cleared her throat.

Walter felt a twinge of nerves return. Was she rattled because she couldn't figure out how to reject him without hurting him worse? Or was she happy?

Paige lifted her hand and made a motion as if she was pushing more hair behind her ear, even though no hair had fallen forward on that side. She put a hand on her heart. "I didn't expect to come in today and feel so..."

Somehow, she'd gotten more flustered than him. Walter O'Brien. Paige Dineen was more flustered than Walter O'Brien. Walter slid his hands up to her upper arms, looking intently at her, and he smiled when she lifted her eyes to his again. "Paige, what do you want?" He hoped he was doing the right thing, helping her forward, doing exactly what Cabe told him he hoped he was ready to do.

She took in an anticipatory breath. "Kiss me."

He did, closing his sliding his hands around to her back. She hummed against his lips, cupping his jaw with both her hands as he leaned into her, ever so slightly, nudging at her mouth and deepening the kiss when she parted her lips farther. God, he could kiss this woman forever. He wished they could stay right here, that he could keep kissing her without interruption, learning how to make her feel every ounce of love he possessed for her in his kiss alone. If she wanted his love, if she reciprocated it, and if the blushing and stuttering was what happened when she felt overwhelmed by this feeling, then he wanted to keep her that way. He wanted to make her feel like the two of them together were too good to be true, and then keep proving every bit of it _was_ true every day for the rest of their lives.

He wanted to make her every bit as happy as she made him.

She sighed into his mouth, sliding a hand around to the back of his neck, then up into his hair as her other one replaced it where it had just been. He pulled her closer, feeling the warmth of her body against his. The sheer relief at this going well, at feeling her so near him and knowing that she wanted to be here, at realizing that nothing that had happened had pushed them into _too late_ , brought a tiny groan out from between his lips. Their lips separated ever so briefly and he whispered her name, and she put her lips back on his, firmly, curling his hair around her fingers.

This kiss was different from their first encounter. This time there was no rush, no sense of free fall. But the electrifying chemistry between them was still there, and the sheer passion behind her kisses was going straight to his knees and threatening to make them buckle. He gripped her tighter, somehow both in case support was necessary and wishing that he _would_ in fact need it. He'd always been someone who needed control to feel safe, and yet he found himself thinking about how much of an adrenaline rush was coming from holding Paige, kissing her, and wanting to know what else she could do to him. He wondered what his kisses were doing to her – and how much more he could do.

She moved her thumbs, stroking his neck and hair affectionately, locking both her lips around his lower one and sucking on it lightly, running her tongue from side to side, before tipping her head the other way, her tongue re – entering his mouth. His tangled with hers, his knees feeling weak, his brain threatening to short circuit from the knowledge that the woman he loved was in his arms and was kissing him as if she'd been kept awake by thoughts of him as much as he had.

Their lips parted, and his forehead rested against hers as their arms maneuvered until they were wrapped around each other below the other's chest. "Maybe I can articulate now," Paige said with a little laugh. She rolled her forehead, left and right, along his. "I tried to stop caring about you," she whispered, her voice sounding like it was threatening to crack. "I couldn't. It was pointless to even try." She bit her lip. "We've both made mistakes, and honestly I'm so glad that none of them made it so we couldn't get here."

She leaned back slightly, her eyes locking on his. "I love you too. You might even say," she said with a smirk, "that I don't want to pluck you, either."


End file.
